


All Saints Day, 2012

by ourspecialtonight



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Nen, ChroLeoPika Week, Dark Academia, M/M, Multi, Study Buddies and Fuck Buddies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:28:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29521584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ourspecialtonight/pseuds/ourspecialtonight
Summary: Kurapika and Leorio make an early morning trip to a hidden wing of the university library, where Chrollo has spent the night burning in the ninth circle of adjunct hell. Leorio hopes the Mayan apocalypse will get him out of finals scot-free.It’s all very civilized.
Relationships: Kurapika/Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer/Leorio Paladiknight
Comments: 7
Kudos: 10
Collections: CLK Week '21





	All Saints Day, 2012

Kurapika locked his front door behind him and accepted the coffee Leorio handed him. 

“Almond milk?”

“And cinnamon.”

“Thanks. Why are we meeting so early again?” Kurapika asked, taking a sip and blinking against the chilled morning wind. He hunched his shoulders and buried his neck deeper in his wool scarf. 

“Pfft. The aesthetic? I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d been there all night, talking to ghosts or whatever. Post-ironic bastard in his creepy library wing,” Leorio complained, and slung an arm over Kurapika’s shoulder.

Kurapika smiled. Chrollo always chose to work in the older, unrenovated section of the library, which was stocked with books completely irrelevant to all of their fields. “It still has real wood carrels. Not just particle-board dividers,” he’d said, by way of explanation. 

“Why the hell does that matter?” Leorio had asked, and Chrollo had just looked at him as if he were insane.

But even Kurapika had to admit that section of the library was pleasantly quiet, and so tucked away that most undergrads didn’t even know about it. 

Undergrads. The evidence of their Halloween parties was strewn all over the lawns and sidewalks this morning amidst the wet fallen leaves. Solo cups, toilet paper, discarded plastic masks, and smashed jack o’ lanterns adorned every front stoop. 

“What’s even the appeal of smashing pumpkins?” he said, kicking a pumpkin segment off the sidewalk.

“I dunno, Billy Corgan’s a dick, but they had a pretty unique sound for— OH,” Leorio stopped short as he realized. Kurapika laughed as he jogged a step to catch up again. Leorio laced his fingers with Kurapika’s and stuffed both their hands together into his coat pocket. As much as they argued, being around Leorio always felt profoundly comfortable, like a warm sweatshirt with an obnoxious logo on the front. 

When they wound their way through the main section of the library into the older wing in the back, Kurapika was reminded why Chrollo always chose to spend his time here. Vaulted cathedral ceilings held up by neoclassical ionic columns, with a balcony of library stacks in narrow rows circling the large room. A handful of high circular windows allowed the cool morning light in. That slightly musty, warm-wood-old-book-oil-heat smell met his nose in wisps and waves. And yes, real walnut carrels. Kurapika brushed his fingers over one as he passed. Here, it was easy to pretend that getting a PhD in astronomy was actually about studying the stars and learning the sacred secrets of the universe, not just an endless parade of emails and buggy simulation software and jockeying for a tenure-track position that might not even exist by the time he finished his dissertation. That his Cosmology 103 class this afternoon would be full of inquisitive, smartly-dressed young people who would actually ask him questions about the history of the universe, not just “will this be on the exam?” or “can I get an extension?” 

Chrollo was already folded into one of the leather armchairs in the far corner of the room, one leg tossed over one of the arms. He was wearing a plum velvet blazer over a white oxford shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, which meant he’d been up all night. Dressing well helped him “rise to the occasion of being awake,” he’d told Kurapika one time. A tall stack of essays sat in front of him. 

“Keep slouching like that and you’ll ruin your back,” Kurapika said primly.

“My back has been ruined for years. Good morning,” he said, without looking up from the essay he was grading. His voice started out raw from disuse before settling into its usual smoothness. 

“Oh right. I always forget you’re old,” Leorio said. He set another coffee on the table in front of them and tossed his peacoat over the back of the couch opposite. “Extra large black with two espresso shots. How about next time I just give you an adrenaline shot?” 

“Thank you, that sounds nice,” Chrollo said mildly as Kurapika slid into his lap, forcing him to sit up at least partway. 

Kurapika combed Chrollo’s dark hair back from his forehead with idle fingers. “Are your students pissed that you haven’t given their midterms back yet?”

“A little.” Chrollo pulled him down into a kiss. His lips were soft, his breath slightly sour from lack of sleep. Kurapika arched down into him, sliding his tongue against Chrollo’s, tasting that perennial academic tiredness under the layers of affection. Chrollo broke off the kiss to tease, cool and innocent, “Why, do you miss me when I’m busy?”

“No!” Kurapika pulled away. 

“Come  _ on," _ _ _ Leorio said, unloading his books onto the table. “Every day you’re bitching about what a slow grader he is and how we never see him anymore.” 

Kurapika felt his face redden and he stared daggers at Leorio. He tried to get up, but Chrollo held him tighter. 

Chrollo hummed and smiled as he tugged Kurapika closer. “Maybe I’m slow on purpose. Just to see that angry little blush of yours.” 

The intensity of Chrollo’s romantic attention felt like pressing on a bruise sometimes. Kurapika nodded at the stack of essays, desperate to change the subject. “What are those about?”

“Milton,” he sighed. “It’s a bloodbath.”

“That bad?” Kurapika craned his neck to look at the essay Chrollo was grading. The text was drowning in red underlines and annotations in his messy hand. 

Chrollo flipped back one page and read an underlined passage, “‘In my opinion, it is plausible that before God forced him to crawl on his belly, Satan in his serpent form may have coiled his tail and bounced upright.’”

“What, like a pogo stick?” Leorio asked.

“So it would seem.” 

“Humanities is a hell of a drug. Hey, speaking of, would one of you quiz me on pharmacology stuff? I have a test… well, it was supposed to be yesterday but my professor’s a chump.” He pulled a few pages of typed notes from the pages of one of the books. 

“Give me that,” Kurapika took the sheets from Leorio and read off a question at random. “What are some adverse effects of CCS drugs?” 

“Uh. Cell toxicity, for one thing.”

“More specifically?” 

“Hair. Bone marrow… gut mucosa. Stuff like that.” 

Chrollo hooked his chin over Kurapika’s shoulder to look at the page. “I’d give him that. What does ‘SSRI’ stand for?”

“Serotonin— no, wait. Selective serotonin release inhibitor?”

“Reuptake,” Kurapika and Chrollo said, without looking at the sheet. Kurapika wasn’t surprised, he’d seen the pill bottles on Chrollo’s bedside table when they slept over. 

“Shit. Anyway, I guess it doesn’t matter.” Leorio slumped back and stared up at the vaulted ceiling beams. “If the Mayans were right, nothing’s gonna matter pretty soon.”

Chrollo exhaled audibly as Kurapika bristled and turned on Leorio. 

“If an asteroid were going to hit the Earth on December twenty-first, we’d have seen it by now,” he said firmly.

Leorio leaned forward and set his elbows on his knees. “What if it’s hiding behind the moon?”

“Hiding behind the moon?! I literally study this shit! Do you think I’m an idiot?” Kurapika hissed. 

“Are you saying the Mayans were idiots? They built freakin’ pyramids, Kurapika! They invented rubber!” Leorio hissed back. 

“Do you want to go to the fucking observatory right now and I’ll show you?” Kurapika’s voice echoed off the stone walls, raising the few other heads in the room. 

“Okay, easy! Christ,” Leorio said, sitting back again. Then, to Chrollo, “Control him, hey?” 

Chrollo’s fingers snaked into Kurapika’s hair and curled into a fist at the back of his head. He tipped Kurapika’s head back and considered him with fond, half-lidded eyes. “This one’s a handful.” 

Cool electricity heated Kurapika’s nerves. He could feel Leorio’s eyes on him as well, and the sensation of being watched made him forget all about the Mayans. 

Chrollo’s grip on his hair tightened as he addressed Leorio. “Perhaps you’d like to assist me.” 

Kurapika slid his gaze over to Leorio, silently seconding the invitation, and saw his blush reach down to his neck.  


**Author's Note:**

> Happy Chroleopika week! For the record, yes, college students in fall 2012 were openly speculating that finals would be canceled for the end of the world. And I did have a friend who wore a lime-green sport coat every time he pulled an all-nighter.


End file.
